Chapter 1: An Unexpected Showpiece

Present day

“Farris hooked up with one of those women? Are you for real?” Andre Savard questioned incredulously.

“I’m being serious, but don’t repeat anything,” Jake Magnum reminded his teammate. “And, no, I’m not telling you her identity, nor the women I hooked up with.”

“Wait, women? As in plural? What the hell happened down there?” the dark-skinned defensive end challenged, forgetting all about loading the borrowed pickup truck.

“I heard it was a cult that Jake and Phinn broke up. Word is that there were way more celebrities there, but of course, it’s being covered up,” Wallace Weaver relayed.

“There is no cover-up!” Jake insisted.

“Who else did you hear?” Andre asked the red-haired class clown.

“Honey Cantrell, Austin Slater, and Ember Starfire. That’s just to name a few,” Wally passed on knowingly.

“Those people weren’t there! I’ve never met them, nor has Phinn ever met them,” Jake insisted.

Jake and Phinn had returned from their dangerous trip the previous night, escaping the media storm covering The Crystal’s Charmer’s Secret, as one of their fellow teen detectives dubbed it in a follow-up text message. While most of the attention nationally focused on the celebrities involved, the sleuths found Edgewater already abuzz about Jake Magnum’s latest shocking case. In addition to regular news outlets, Johanna Zay’s exclusive interviews with the victims had begun to appear on her social media accounts. Their classmate had gained such access thanks to her sudden, uninvited arrival at the scene. The wannabe influencer also had IOUs from the junior investigators regarding a past case, thus canceling their outstanding debt in exchange for special access.

Unfortunately, the guys didn’t get any time to rest and recover from their injuries. Instead, their concerned, if not upset, parents had already put them to work, helping gather items for the annual Monroe Park neighborhood rummage sale. Beginning the Monday following the holiday weekend, the event often brought neighbors together and served as one of the significant events in Pamela Farris’s year.

Numerous homes in the park neighborhood, located on Monroe, Madison, and Randolph avenues, as well as on 34th and 36th streets, would have their garages filled with items for sale over the course of five days. However, the primary hub for larger items would be located in the 35th Street cul-de-sac. The three teens were currently working on picking up the larger items for that spot.

“I don’t know. Some of those internet rumors are pretty unbelievable, but I also just finished my punishment from the wild shit that went down during your other case on Luke’s boat,” Andre pointed out.

“That’s already turned into an urban legend around town, yet you managed to knock it aside with even crazier shit,” Wally chuckled, mostly from disbelief.

“Whatever. Where to next?” Jake inquired, hopping into the driver’s seat.

“Don’t change the subject!” Andre exclaimed, stepping aside to let Wally slide into the middle seat. “Should we expect a hottie in oversized sunglasses and a floppy hat sneaking around town with you soon?”

“Not unless Zay is in disguise again,” Jake mumbled.

“Whoa! Are you still hooking up with an actress? Which one?” the class clown questioned.

“I’m not…it’s not like that,” Jake growled in frustration while clenching the steering wheel. “Where are we going next, please?”

“I bet it’s Adora Rose,” Wally speculated. “The scuttlebutt says that she broke up with her longtime boyfriend during this craziness.”

“Oh, my guy definitely tapped that. Wait, maybe Dream Lass made Farris’s dreams come true,” Andre suggested uncertainly.

“Fine. I’m just going to start driving. You can tell me where to stop,” Jake declared, turning on the truck.

Carrying through on his threat, Jake slowly drove the vehicle around the corner from Webster Avenue toward the east on 34th Street. At the same time, Andre and Wally continued to make guesses about who slept with whom at what some in the media were calling a cult compound. Passing Clay Avenue, Jake had already started to pass Monroe when Wally yelled at him.

“You’re missing the turn!”

“I don’t know where we’re going, since you won’t tell me!”

“Oh. The McDermitts are the next stop,” Wally divulged.

“Nice to know,” Jake responded, braking and reversing the vehicle to turn north on Monroe. “What are we getting here?”

“Supposedly, an old dresser that’s been sitting in their garage for years. A few smaller items, too. I think maybe lamps. The list is smeared a bit,” Wally relayed, reading from a notebook.

Well-acquainted with many of the longtime residents in his neighborhood, Jake knew the McDermitts lived on the east side of the block, the second home from the somewhat busy 33rd Street. Backing into the driveway, Jake also tapped the horn, as he knew Mr. McDermitt had grown hard of hearing in recent years.

For the next twenty minutes, Jake and Andre worked to lift the bulky dresser and slide it inside the truck. The effort proved tricky as the wide piece of furniture barely fit. All this occurred under the observation of the retired construction foreman, who barked orders like he had once done while on a jobsite. He repeatedly warned them not to damage the dresser. Wally ended up getting the easier job of assembling the smaller pieces that Mrs. McDermitt pointed out. He also managed to con his way into a piece of cake before the others finished.

“I got one last chore if you boys don’t mind,” the seventyish-old man said, once they’d secured the dresser in the truck bed.

“Sure, Mr. McDermitt,” Jake replied, shrugging at Andre. Not only did the teen detective like the gruff old man, but his elderly neighbor had already started toward his front yard, expecting their help.

“Martha’s damn lawn ornament is too heavy for me to move these days. I need it switched from near the driveway over to the other side,” the older man directed.

A simple favor, the pair of football players lifted the surprisingly heavy lawn gnome with groans. Jake shushed Andre when he said, “I better not get a hernia from this damn dwarf.”

While slowly traveling across the front yard, a snarling and barking started from the corner house across the street. With his poor hearing, Mr. McDermitt seemed oblivious to the racket, but Jake and Andre shared looks about the vicious-sounding dog.

“That thing better not get out,” Andre remarked, glancing over as the screen door rattled.

“That’s Toby, Todd’s pitbull,” Jake revealed. “He likes trying to scare Bandit with him.”

“Todd Haldorn? Doesn’t he hate you?” Andre queried as they put down the gnome. Having attended different grade schools, he wasn’t aware of the full details.

“Yep,” Jake responded, holding his thumb and index finger close together. “He came this close to a stint in juvie for his fake call to 911. Still, he got the equivalent of juvenile probation.”

“Oh, right! Didn’t Valance skate on charges?”

“He did. His dad is good friends with Reyhall,” Jake passed along, referring to the then police captain turned deputy chief.

“Hold on. How have you and Farris not landed juvenile probation?”

“It’s been touch and go. Phinn’s got a knack for talking our way out of trouble,” Jake revealed. “We’ve still had to do a lot of community service. And considering the bitchfest that Phinn let’s lose over it, I assume the police and DA’s office think it’s punishment enough for us.”

“Move it a few more inches to the right, boys,” Mr. McDermitt directed, interrupting the teens.

After complying, they squeezed back inside the truck. With no room to spare, Jake decided to head over to 35th Street. After a couple of minutes, he pulled in front of the home in the center of the cul-de-sac. The Capshaws lived on a double lot, which had an extra garage on the north side of the house for Mr. Capshaw's boat.

“I hope Sydney’s home,” Andre commented, referring to one of Jake’s older sisters’ friends. An attractive, athletic brunette, the twenty-year-old had proven elusive so far for Jake’s group.

“It’s the middle of the day. Syd’s likely working at the beach,” Jake pointed out about the summer lifeguard.

“Damn, that’s right. We saw her a couple of weeks ago down there, when you and Farris investigated that skeleton,” Andre recalled.

“We might have better luck when we hit up the LeClaires,” Wally said before a question entered his head. “Say, where is Phinn at?”

---

“I can’t believe you have me doing this, Mom!” Phineas Farris complained while sitting in the passenger seat. “The doctor said I need to rest. I have bruised ribs, you know.”

“Don’t get me started, Phinny. You were supposed to do a nice favor for Ms. Ellison in a small town where trouble never happens. Yet, somehow, you found trouble,” Pamela stated, sighing.

“I didn’t find jack! I never wanted to help Leighton and Paisley. Hell, the ice queen still makes me uneasy,” the bespectacled teen admitted about the latter. “You’re the one who insisted I help. Made me help! So, my injury is really your fault.”

Pamela waited to respond until they pulled into the parking lot for the storage facility. Driving slowly while they traveled over several speed bumps, the overstressed mother addressed her son’s statement.

“I did not tell you to risk your life. I’d never do that. I’m already on the verge of losing hair because of you and your brother.”

“Well, you’re the one who wanted me to help. That’s how I do my thing,” Phinn declared.

“No, I taught you to let the police do their job. They’re trained for dangerous situations. My son is not.”

“Trained? Oh, please, Mom! That redneck sheriff and his deputies make keystone cops look professional. Lumlow would’ve been filled with bodies if we hadn’t stepped in,” Phinn stated, causing his mother to frown over his disrespect for law enforcement. “Besides, didn’t Ms. Dall call you last night to profusely thank you for my saving her life?”

“Oh, my. Your aunt was extremely jealous this morning when I told her Cat Dall from Jealous City called me. You know she loved that show back in those days,” Pamela reminded.

“I can always have her call Aunt Tammy, too,” Phinn suggested. “Maybe if we accept her offer to visit California someday.”

“I’m not comfortable with the idea of you traveling all the way out there,” Pamela repeated for the third time since the phone call.

“Jake won’t have any free time for a while once practice starts. He’s thinking next spring break or summer,” Phinn revealed. He wasn’t sure about the idea, but Jake wanted to visit, as some of the people they had helped suggested they could tour a film set or a television studio.

“We’ll see. But your behavior needs to improve…dramatically.”

“My behavior?! What else can I do? I just busted a con artist attempting to swindle people, and before that, I helped expose another grifter seeking to take advantage of our fine hometown.”

“Do not play your mind games with me this week. You're aware of how busy I am with organizing the sale and my work with the festival committee,” Pamela warned, parking her car outside one of the temperature-controlled storage buildings. “I correct myself. Do not play your mind games or get into trouble for the next five to six weeks. None of your investigations. For now, you’ll be focused exclusively on the rummage sale.”

“Like that’s going to happen,” Phinn mumbled before raising his voice. “Are you selling Great Aunt Phillippa’s good stuff?”

"I am not! We're only donating a few of the smaller items to the charity portion of the sale," Pamela clarified, waiting to go inside the building. "The good stuff, as you put it, are our family heirlooms. They're worth keeping here until the next generation can take them."

“I don’t know, it seems like they’ve already been at this place for six years. That’s got to be adding up,” Phinn commented, pulling on the locked door. “Maybe you should throw some stuff in our basement or dump them off at Aunt Tam’s if you don’t want to sell them.”

“Your aunt only moved into the nursing home three years ago. Before that, she lived in those assisted living apartments for the other three years. She had a much smaller storage unit during that time, as many of the items were in her apartment.”

“It still seems like a waste of money,” Phinn repeated. “I don’t know why she wants to keep these things.”

“Your great aunt is keeping them for you and your cousins,” Pamela reminded. “She still holds out hope that you’ll meet a nice girl someday and settle down.”

“Settle down? I just turned eighteen weeks ago!”

“Now, I’m not saying you should do so now or anytime soon. You still need to finish college. And while Phillippa would love to see a baby, you'd better not get a girl pregnant. Remember the safe sex discussion we had.”

“I still have nightmares,” Phinn shuddered. “On that note, knock off this crap with using Johanna to find me a girlfriend. I don’t want or need her help.”

“I think Johanna is a bright young lady. She seems like a go-getter who won’t put up with your crap,” Pamela said.

“Oh…no! You better not try to match me up with Zay!”

“Please, Phineas. While Johanna seems able to deal with your manipulative ways, she’s too focused on fame and popularity,” his mother noted.

“Good!” Phinn replied, relieved about that aspect. “Wait, you mentioned me and my cousins. Doesn’t Pug inherit any of Aunt Phillippa’s stuff?”

“He’s in the will, but I don’t trust Putnam’s intentions with my family heirlooms.”

“True. The brat might try to sell them. Wait, is that why he never comes here?” Phinn questioned, realizing that his thirteen-year-old brother had never come with them to the storage facility. “I mean, you know I can’t lift anything with these ribs, right?”

“Relax. Our help is here,” Pamela responded as a familiar vehicle pulled up alongside their car.

“Ah, you got Lance to help,” Phinn nodded.

A soon-to-be twenty-two-year-old college student, Lance Nook, lived directly across the street from Jake and Phinn. Despite a rule imposed by their parents about snooping around the neighborhood since the Mauldin house incident, Busybody, Inc., had broken that rule within the first year to investigate Lance’s date from Hilltop Academy. A nice guy, unlucky in love, the boys also exposed his cheating girlfriend last summer while she visited. While still in high school, Lance often provided car rides for the bicycle-limited detectives.

“Hi, Mrs. Farris; hey, Phinn!” Lance waved upon exiting his vehicle.

Phinn started to reply with a greeting before groaning as the passenger door opened. Another neighbor from further down the street got out, his bright copper red hair leaving no doubt about his identity.

“Don’t worry, Phineas. My parents surprised me with my own phone when we returned. Now, I can handle fan club business from anywhere!” Cormac “Corky” King announced. “And, oh boy, has the fan club been blowing up. I think we should discuss membership fees.”

“No! We’re not charging people. In fact, maybe shutting down the fan club is the better option,” Phinn suggested, never thrilled about the idea or their twelve-year-old neighbor as club president.

“Now, don’t upset Corky, Phinny,’ Pamela admonished.

“We can’t shut the club down. Busybody, Inc. is hot right now. The Wicked Riddle wants an exclusive interview. While you’re not ranked in the new July issue, the word is that you will be in August,” Corky relayed. “Jake’s going to be thrilled.”

“Shoot me now,” Phinn cried.

“And my July issue should arrive any day now. Unfortunately, you lost the cover story to The Clue Coterie, but you still have a featured article. Don’t worry, I’m working on ginning up outrage over the Cherry Cove bias. Johanna’s going to help me take them down!”

---

“The festival committee is absolutely thrilled about this mini-play,” Charlotte Annable proclaimed, beaming with pride. “Even Mayor Broome believes it’s a delightful idea.”

“Phinn thinks he only said that because he wants to rewrite what happened,” Jake relayed. “Wash away the embarrassment of Cozart fooling the city government and police department.”

“Phineas is astute as ever. Roger Broome is hopeful that any stink will wear off by the next election,” the local alderwoman admitted. “However, the two of you could use the image boost. We know that you’re not very popular in town, and it starts in this very neighborhood.”

Jake sighed for two reasons. One, in agreement with the sixty-nine-year-old retired social studies teacher. Second, for spotting Abigail LeClaire near her garage, which faced 36th Street. While Jake had been ambushed by the sudden appearance of the city council member, his friends dealt with Mr. LeClaire and his eldest daughter. Standing on the sidewalk at 36th and Monroe, Jake groaned internally as his old crush pranced around in tiny shorts and a spaghetti-strap top.

“I’ve been in contact with Quinn Rusch and Violet Tipton this morning. Little Corky’s idea of using them is amazing. Both girls are willing to help design and create the costumes. Violet is even going to ask her friends in the school drama club for help, as she’s busy with her game thingie for most of July,” Charlotte chatted away.

Jake considered correcting her assumption that Corky had come up with those ideas all by himself, but the distracted detective let the comment slide. A bent-over Abby had her D-cups straining to burst out from her top. Dammit! This is why Phinn needs to come along. I could’ve passed him off to Mrs. Annable to give me a chance with Abby.

“We just need to select some kids to fill out your little detective agency. Corky appears to be a lock to play Phineas. Violet suggested tryouts. Would you be available to judge the auditions? I assume Phineas wouldn’t be interested,” Mrs. Annable continued to rattle off as Andre and Wally escalated their teasing of Jake over their up-close view of the busty blonde.

“Yeah, Phinn already said he wanted nothing to do with an altered take on the Phantom Diver case.”

“Tsk tsk tsk. That young man needs to loosen up more. He only seems to enjoy solving your puzzles,” the alderwoman commented.

Jake nodded before his eyes widened. While distracted by the conversation, Abby had moved closer to get an item from the yard’s side. Now, her phenomenal ass wiggled from side to side in his direction.

“Watch those eyes, Magnum!”

Startled, Jake threw up his hands defensively as Flynn LeClaire appeared again to scowl at the teen. The electrician had long been wary of Jake’s interest in his eldest daughter, although he seemed more protective of Allie. Still, Jake wasn’t entirely on the outs, as April LeClaire worked as a paralegal at the same law firm as Justine Magnum. If anything, her love of Jake negated her husband’s suspicious attitude.

“Oh! Flynn, I need to talk to you,” Charlotte remembered after the interruption.

Jake’s luck continued to fail him. While Mrs. Annable finally broke off the conversation, Andre and Wally had finished loading the truck. With her help no longer needed, Abby escaped back inside the air-conditioned house.

Sulking, Jake hopped inside the truck. The LeClaires had been their final stop of the day. They just needed to drop the stuff off at the Capshaws for one last time, and they’d be free for the rest of the day.

“Damn, tough luck, buddy,” Andre consoled, leaning past Wally to slap Jake’s chest. “Hmm, with your MILF magic, I bet you swapped spit with Catherine Dall. Those older women sure seem to love you.”

“Yeah, but Mrs. Annable is more the GILF-type,” the class clown pointed out.

“Whoa!”

“Geez, Weaver, you think Mrs. Annable is fuckable?” Andre questioned.

“No! I didn’t say that. I just meant to show the difference between–”

“Oh, don’t worry, Walls. We won’t tease you about this revelation,” Andre fake assured.

“Not at all. We won’t put anything online about your grandma fetish. We’ll just put up some posters around the neighborhood,” Jake teased, thrilled to finally have something to hold over the jokester.

“Awesome idea! We can make the poster look like those notices when a convicted predator moves into a neighborhood,” Andre added.

“Don’t even think about it. I’ll get you two back way worse, and you know it,” Wally threatened, sending the truck cab into a round of laughter.

It only took a minute to reach the cul-de-sac. As Jake backed into the driveway in front of the extra garage, his friend filled him in about what they learned from Abby.

“Allie and her mom are over at her grandparents' house helping them prepare,” Wally supplied. “Doesn’t her grandpa make those things out of wood?”

“Right. Mr. Shepley used to be a carpenter. He still enjoys woodworking, but he sells the items he creates at the festival. For the rummage sale, he donates old, broken furniture that he’s repaired. Usually, his stuff makes the most for the charity side of the sale,” Jake explained.

“Well, Kody’s helping out over there,” Andre revealed. “I think he’s trying to make a few bucks.”

“Sounds like Kody,” Jake agreed. “I think he ‘helped out’ with somebody’s craft table last year at the festival.”

The football team’s kicking specialist rivaled Jake in finding himself violating Coach Turnbull’s rule about his players working or using social media. Unlike Jake, whose investigations upset his head coach, Kody always seemed short of money, as he burned through it.

“Sounds like he’s the lucky one. He got to hang out around Allie and Mrs. LeClaire for most of the day,” Wally complained.

“We might be in luck tomorrow. Abby said your sister’s group plans to watch the fireworks from the park,” Andre informed Jake.

“And? Everyone pretty much watches the show from the park. That’s where the action is always at,” Jake pointed out.

“Yeah, but people also watch the fireworks at the beaches or on the other side of the harbor by the historical society,” Wally added.

“Phinn and I are pretty much banned from the historical society unless we’re accompanied by someone from Bentworth or the city government,” Jake relayed.

“Even with that display about your case?” the class clown inquired.

“Oh, that case is why they’re banned,” Andre chuckled.

“It will eventually get lifted. Gladden can’t keep us banned for life,” Jake stated confidently while getting out of the truck.

“Hello again, boys!” Sharon Capshaw greeted.

An attractive forty-five-year-old woman with light brown hair in a pixie cut, Sharon had dark brown eyes, medium-to-large-sized breasts, and a firm ass. A popular hair stylist, she’d taken the day off from her busy schedule to help with rummage sale preparation. The three male teenagers immediately stiffened as they brightly smiled at the beautiful woman.

“Last load, ma’am,” Jake revealed. “Did Phinn stop by?”

“No. Pamela said they’ll store it in their garage for now. Mark’s boat space is getting pretty full. Sherry, open the spare garage door!”

Mrs. Capshaw hadn’t been lying when she said the extended, oversized garage had quickly filled up. Several other batches of furniture had been dropped off since they delivered the McDermitts’ dresser. Now, two aisles allowed browsers to walk up and down the rows of furniture. Two rows of chairs, desks, tables, nightstands, dressers, and other furniture lined the interior sides of the garage, with a double-wide row in the center.

Of course, the remaining space sat in the garage’s rear. Although Mr. Capshaw had insisted on a wide aisle to walk through, several people had ignored his wishes. The result left the guys navigating a few narrow spots. One particularly tough point had them lifting their items over the bottleneck to get around it.

“Man, there are some pretty decent pieces here,” Wally remarked.

“True. I could see this looking quite nice in my future college apartment,” Andre agreed, visions of his future bachelor pad floating in his mind.

“Unless you plan on getting a place in town and commuting to Bentworth, you’d need to store anything for two years. Otherwise, we’ll be in the dorms for our freshman year,” Jake pointed out.

“I might need to see about getting a couple of small things. My brother claimed our old table, armchairs, and couch for his place,” Wally revealed. “I should be able to use the corner of our basement.”

“I’m out. My dad always knows where to find crap. It’s a perk and a curse of owning a bar,” Jake chuckled.

“I’m good too!” a new voice chimed in, startling the teens.

“Ah!”

“The hell, O’Keefe? Don’t sneak up on us like that!” Andre ordered. “It could be a crook out for **** on Jake.”

“Oh, sorry,” Kody apologized sheepishly. “I just meant that Mr. Shepley promised to fix some solid pieces for me in a couple of years.”

“Did you have fun doing the easy work?” Wally questioned his close friend.

“Easy work?” the football kicker repeated.

“More like the easy on the eyes job,” Andre clarified.

“Oh! You mean Layla. How did you guys know she showed up?”

“Hang on, you saw Leggy?” Andre questioned.

“How did she look? Was she covering a story?” Wally rattled off.

A cousin to the LeClaire sisters, Layla LeClaire has been a track star in high school and college. Nicknamed Leggy for the obvious reasons, she’d recently been hired as the new sports reporter at Channel 5. As part of an unofficial apology for Stone Barrington’s character attacks on Phinn and Jake during a recent case, the station’s news director agreed to have his recent hire profile the North High Puffers before the upcoming football season—a development that Andre asked about.

“She’s not going to interview us until practice starts in August,” Jake reminded.

“Uh, yep, I took a few pictures of items for Mr. Shepley. You can see Layla in the background of a couple,” Kody revealed before Jake grabbed the phone out of his hand.

“Damn!” Andre cried, looking over Jake’s shoulder.

"Leggy's definitely not in town to cover a story in those tiny shorts," Jake remarked, checking out the cutoff jean shorts with the pockets covering more skin than the actual shorts.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Layla is going to cover the rummage sale early next week,” Kody passed on. “She needs field experience, and there isn’t much going on locally for sports.”

Wally ended up with the phone last, spending a decent amount of time scrolling through the accidental pictures that Kody had taken of all three LeClaire women. While he did so, Kody asked for a ride home or if they wanted to grab something to eat, which meant he'd been paid for his day of work. Bill Shepley had dropped him off while stopping by to do the same with some paperwork for Mrs. Capshaw.

Exiting the garage, they ran into the friendly ex-carpenter, who always enjoyed chatting with his granddaughter's classmates. Mr. Shepley immediately launched into a spiel about all the great pieces he'd have ready for the town festival next month. During his one-man infomercial, Kody and Wally started to bicker over Kody's phone. He didn't have it on him.

“How would you boys like some soda? Sherry can get you a few cans out of Mark’s clubhouse in back,” Sharon offered.

The guys immediately agreed as they wanted to check out Mr. Capshaw's small pool house, which he preferred to call his clubhouse. Sort of an outdoor mancave, it featured two large televisions, a bar, several vintage games, and a poker table. Mrs. Capshaw promised not to shut the garage door until Kody retrieved his phone. They wished Allie's grandfather goodbye before getting a cold drink.

"Doesn't your little buddy have a thing for her?" Andre asked, watching Sydney's younger sister go into the house while they drank their soda.

"Cody? I know he had a crush on Sherry, but he hasn't said anything about her in months," Jake responded. "He seems more focused on our cases lately."

“Hey, how much did you guys get paid for the last case?” Kody inquired, earning groans from Wally and Andre. “If it’s a big deal, you don’t need to reveal the amount.”

“No money,” Jake admitted, shocking the team’s punter. “I mean, we got some nice thank yous. A few of the other guests also invited us to visit them someday. I think we might take them up on the offer next spring or summer, depending on what roles they have and where.”

After downing his can first, Kody jogged off to retrieve his phone.

"So, we're all hanging out at the harbor tomorrow night?" Jake asked.

"Luke invited us to go out in the bay on his parents' big boat to watch the fireworks. I'm leaning toward going with him," Andre revealed. "You guys coming?"

“No way. I’m not missing the food, games, and girls,” Wally replied.

“I’m with Weaver. I’ll need to drag Phinn out of his house, but he won’t go out on a boat,” Jake explained.

“He’s been scared of water since that one time–” Wally began to explain before they heard Kody calling them while running over.

“You gotta see what I found. C’mon!” the shortest player on the football team directed, waving at them to follow him.

Curious, the three other guys followed their friend about halfway into the boat garage. Kody pointed to a spot on the cement floor underneath a small table in the double-wide center aisle. He said he found it underneath.

“Found what?” Wally questioned.

“This,” Kody announced, handing Jake an 8x10 photograph.

Immediately, the teen detective's brain subconsciously placed it in the 1980s or an earlier time. However, it's the content that caught his attention more than anything.

It featured a beautiful woman in her twenties lying on a bed with her legs raised. However, her long legs weren't sticking straight out; they were spread-eagled as a man screwed her in the missionary position. Despite the lewd scene, their private parts were obscured by each other's bodies.

“Whoa!” Andrew exclaimed.

“I wonder who mistakenly donated that,” Wally quipped.

“No, look on the back,” Kody directed, his face pale.

Jake flipped the photograph over and read what had been written in black marker.

“Pay up or pay the consequences. Deadline: Friday.”